


Stories of the Kestvalae I - Mysagon

by Kestvala



Series: Stories of the Kestvalae [1]
Category: NationStates (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, Love, Masturbation, Memories, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Patriarchy, Racism, Rape, Rape Fantasy, Romance, Sadism, Sexism, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Frustration, Sleeping Together, Vaginal Sex, Work In Progress, Worldbuilding, lesbian overtones, underage marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-25 09:50:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12528616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestvala/pseuds/Kestvala
Summary: WIP





	1. The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY WIP

* * *

Draeon Tyvar Haryn

* * *

Though the urge was great, he had managed to contain it for nearly seven days now. The only thing Draeon Tyvar Haryn could do now was keep his eyes closed and repeat in his mind, _don’t do it, just sleep, don’t do it_. After what seemed like the fifth eternity that night, he opened his eyes.

     He was lying on his back. The room was dark, and standard for his income. The ceiling was simple, white, with four pot lights. His head was lifted somewhat by his pillow and the blanket clung slightly from the dampness of his sweat. Though it was only early spring, he had dampened the sheets with sweat summoned solely by nerves. He directed his gaze downward. Straight ahead was a dresser, tall and wide, with a mirror on top and littered with various cosmetic products. To the right of the dresser was the door to the bedroom, with a cloth bag hanging on the handle. To his right was the bathroom attached to the bedroom. The door was open, and the shower and toilet were barely visible in the moonlight coming in from the windows that were to either side of the head of his bed. Against his bed was a small table.

     It was toward this table that he rolled over, checking the time on a digital clock. _1 AM already! Fuck me_. He damned himself for being so weak. The sooner he slept, the sooner he would awaken and the sooner he would be able to get there. The crowd would be too large if he slept in too long and got to the city centre too late. He had been on nationwide television talking about it, and now he was at risk of missing out on everything if he didn’t sleep. His nerves, however, kept him awake. Frustrated, he rolled over to his left side. 

     The left wall in respect to his position was where the two closets were located. The one on the right was his own, and the one on the left belonged to his wife. The wood of the closets, the bed, the dresser and the bedside table all matched. It was not a dark wood, but closer to dark than to light. He didn’t know what the name of it was, nor did he ever bother asking. His wife was the one who understood home decorating.

     She was in bed with him, about a foot away after he rolled over. She was laying on her left side, with her back to him, exactly as he had instructed her to. The moonlight illuminated the pale skin of her shoulder and upper back, smooth and flawless. She was 5’1”, only slightly on the shorter end for Kestvalae women at age 17. Her hair was a rich, dark brown, grown down to between her shoulder blades, and slightly wavy. If he could see her eyes, they would be an icy and lifeless blue, utterly out of place with the rest of her body, but still beautiful. Her face would be almost free of blemishes, given the long and dedicated care she gave to her complexion every morning and every evening before bed. She had a small mouth, and an adorable smile, with perfect teeth. She was nude beneath the covers.

     He then noticed her perfume. It was a light scent, a subtle floral odour that was not as easily noticeable as her perfume usually was. He realized that this was intentional. She knew that he wanted to sleep long and well that night, and didn’t want to attract his attention.

      _Smart woman_ , he thought to himself. He had instructed her to try and avoid seducing him with her innate beauty. He hadn’t even mentioned her perfume. There were a lot of different ways a woman attracted a man, it turned out, and probably most of them were unnoticed even as they impacted a man’s response to her. This was why he had married her. _Smart in all the ways a woman ought to be_ , he thought. _She’s an expert in feminine arts, and obeys without question_. Draeon remembered when he met Oraea just a year ago.

     He had bought the home a specifically because he had secured a security job at the new mall in eastern Jahmera City. The house was big enough for a wife and children, which he was expected by his family to acquire after securing a stable job. Not long after moving in to the house, he found Oraea. She was shyer than most Kestvalae women back when he met her. She was with her father, shopping for a new summer dress for herself at the mall. She had just changed into the dress when he walked past her, with its thin translucent fabric around her slender, toned legs. In that moment, she was Syphaea, goddess of sex. He was fixated on her legs, but managed to snap out of it, only to realize she was looking at him right in the eyes from three metres away. She quickly averted her eyes and whispered to her father, failing to conceal a grin. He had been examining how the dress looked on her. Draeon made a life-changing decision in that moment. He walked toward the two, meeting the father’s gaze instantly from about a metre away. He then gave him a nod, ignoring his outstretched arm, and proceeded to feast his eyes on Oraea. From top to bottom, he admired what was showing. Her face, nervous and yet, he thought, excited. Her piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair. Her shoulders, her cleavage, her midriff, her arms, and her legs through the fabric. He also imagined what the rest of her looked like beneath the dress. Ample breasts for her size, with perfect pink nipples. Lady parts untainted and tight, slightly wet from the assault that his eyes mounted upon her and that she surely felt. Only after this did Draeon turn to her father, walk the last metre, and clasp his forearm. He complimented him on his physique, speculating that he had served in the military. This seemed to impress the father. Draeon then turned to Oraea, and she bowed her head, lifting it when he placed a hand on her shoulder. He then complimented her in detail, being sure to mention her ample breasts and her toned legs, and that she surely had a husband with such beauty at her disposal. All this he did in front of her father. She giggled, and Draeon knew in that moment that he had to have her.

     A year later, when he was 22 and she was 17, he purchased a choker appropriate for a wedding, and went to her father for permission. It was then, after answering some last questions about why he wanted to wed her, that Draeon was told that Oraea and her father had come to the market to teach her to overcome her shyness and to start pursuing a husband, at a far later age than her older sister had started.

     The marriage was just a long delay before the bedding ceremony that made the sex that much sweeter. Though he had failed to make her pregnant that night, or any other night in the three weeks since, and though both her family and his own were disappointed in their continued failure to conceive, Draeon still thought of the events fondly. She was even more beautiful naked in front of the marriage bed than she was that day in the market. He had kissed her long and forcefully, and her mouth had parted immediately. Their tongues danced, and as she raised her leg beside him, he felt her wetness on his thigh. He then ended their kiss, spun her around and bent her over the bed, and held her there for a few seconds, listening to her quickened breathing. He aligned his manhood with her sex, and asked her, “who are you?”. As they had been courting for a year, she had known exactly what to say. Her reply was simple. Breathing heavily in anticipation of what would follow, she then whispered…

      _Shit_. Draeon snapped himself back into the present. The dark bedroom, lit by the moon. He averted his gaze from his wife, and rolled back onto his right side to examine the clock again. _Fucking 1:15 AM? Already?_ he thought. The then noticed that his hand was stroking his cock, and he stopped himself immediately. _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_ He was saving his seed for tomorrow’s Empire-wide spectacle. Five Kanaeri women, locked in place, bent over with their ankles parted to shoulder width. Hundreds of Kestvalae women striking them and spitting on them, calling them every degrading name in existence. Hundreds of Kestvalae men raping the five women in various creative manners. He had to be one of those men tomorrow. He had to spill his seed inside one of them, preferably the youngest, but one of them. They had dared to oppose everything that his life was built around. They had dared to claim a higher place in society when their race was so clearly inferior. They had dared to profane the royal family. To put them in their place, calls echoed throughout the Kestvalae population for a mass rape, with many women joining the men in this plea. The Heir, Vaelyx Valerialis, had obliged, and the punishment was due to take place on the morning of March 27th, which was only hours away. As an added challenge, Draeon had committed himself to resisting the urge to engage in any sexual activity whatsoever. He hadn’t so much as masturbated to completion in the seven days passed. He knew that Oraea was similarly frustrated by this. He had prohibited her from having an orgasm for the last twenty days. She was permitted to touch herself, but could not orgasm until after the punishment of 'The Five' was complete. He had promised her that she would not want for sexual attention if she persevered.

     Draeon was somehow just as excited by the thought of her sex drive tomorrow after twenty days of sexual pressure as he was of tomorrow’s session of public rape. He just had to make it a few more hours. He rolled onto his back, put his hands under his head to keep them from his manhood, closed his eyes, and resumed his internal mantra. _Don’t do it, just sleep, don’t do it, just sleep. Just. Sleep._

* * *

     Draeon awoke before he even noticed he was asleep. His alarm was beeping. He rolled over to his right and stopped it, and the time was 5:50 AM. He only felt half-rested, but then the thought of what was only an hour away caused a surge of adrenaline to carry him to his feet and around the foot of the bed to his closet. He didn't waste too much time picking out the best clothes. He chose a grey shirt and beige trousers, and a brown coat that split above his left leg and extended down to his ankles. He chose a pair of metal bracers for his forearms, then lastly picked out a pair of plain white-grey socks and turned to leave. Oraea stirred, and he stopped. He walked to her bedside and whispered, "I'm leaving now. Three hours at the most. Then I'll fuck you until you cry." That last statement woke her up more fully. Her eyes were still closed, but she reached for his face and kissed his mouth, with him reaching under the blanket and squeezing a breast. When they parted, she went straight to trying to sleep. Draeon walked around the foot of the bed again, passed Oraea's vanity mirror, turned to his bedside table, and picked up his phone and his wallet. He then doubled back once more and opened the bedroom door. He walked straight to the front door after walking down the stairs, and put on brown boots that stopped just below his knee. Draeon left home, having eaten nothing. He knew that Oraea would cook a great meal after he claimed her later in the day.

     As he walked down the block from his house, Draeon felt something was off. It took a while for him to realize that he had never seen so many people on his street at once. The walkways were filled with people, all likely travelling to the city centre for the high-profile punishment. The street was usually busy with vehicles, however most people were heading to the subway station to avoid the traffic and the worries of finding a parking space downtown. There were a surprising number of women out, likely intrigued by the notion of a mass rape just like their husbands were. He recognized some of his neighbours, and noted that only the women who did not yet have children were leaving their homes. One was four months pregnant. Draeon remembered they were Haedo Bromm and Vellera Bromm, Vellera being pregnant with a boy. Draeon could not remember their full names, but he knew they had two daughters, and were excited for a male. He had considered the day before to take Oraea with him, but decided against it because she still hated the weather in Jahmera. She had moved to the city from Anatolia when he first met her in the mall, and it never dropped below 10 degrees Celsius. Along with this, he wanted her to stew in boredom for just a few more hours as an added final test of her obedience. He trusted her to wait those last hours out dutifully.

     Once he reached an intersection, he descended down a flight of stairs that lead below the streets and into the subway station. It was busy as any rush hour, and alive with Kestvalae making conversation as they made their ways to the boarding platform. Here or there Draeon picked up excited talk of rape, or how burning at the stake would be more appropriate than sale into slavery following the rape. As he neared the platform, it became apparent that he was not going to be the first, or even one of the first, in the city to reach the site of the punishment. One train left and another came, and yet he failed to make it onto that one. When the third train he had seen stopped and a few passengers stepped off, the crowd swarmed in. Draeon at least managed to find a vacant seat for the ride. The train doors closed, and with a lurch, he was on his way.

     It only took a couple minutes for somebody to recognize him.

"Excuse me."

     A young man sitting next to him with his wife was staring at him. Before Draeon could ask, the man said "Yes, you right next to me. You, uh, look like the one from the news."

     The man extended an arm, and Draeon clasped his forearm briefly before answering, "What man?"

"The man who they interviewed about a mass rape. With the hungry wife." was the reply.

     For a moment, Draeon was not sure what was meant by 'hungry wife', but then it dawned on him through the cloud of drowsiness, and he smiled with pride.

"Yeah, that was me. I can't believe how fast that got popular." he said.

     Another man who was standing turned to them.

"Wait, really?" was all that he said. He turned away and nudged another man, and told him.

     Within a minute, the whole train car was focused on Draeon, and every man and woman started chanting his name...


	2. Rising Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WIP

* * *

Veryn Raegaros Karanyth

* * *

      _This is not going to end well,_ Veryn Raegaros Karanyth thought to himself as he stepped out of the armoured light truck. The sun had not yet risen, however the sky was a lighter blue off to the East, behind the law enforcement headquarters that he had now arrived at. His dress uniform marked him as military police. On him was a reinforced dark grey _lesan_ with steel plates on the shoulders, torso, and arms. His bracers were steel as well, and above them were elbow pads. His _relesan_ was the same colour scheme; dark grey with squares of thin steel plate in the long fabric, and black trousers with knee pads. Veryn brushed a long black hair away from his violet eyes to gaze toward the building in front of him.

     On his right hip was a steel _khopesh_ , a ceremonial badge of his position as Commander of the Jahmera Military Police. For two years Veryn had served in the city, rising quickly through the ranks, largely on his ability to inspire the other officers and his emergent skill at enforcement strategizing. Before this, he had served in the armed forces against Jaysh Allah, the Islamic terrorist organization still posing a nuisance to the Empire. Throughout his career, Veryn had proven his ability to fight competently, however it was his affinity for strategy that allowed him to stand out. When Veryn first left for law enforcement, he had thought that it would be easy compared to counter-terrorism operations. He was not entirely correct. The social climate across Kestvala, and especially in Jahmera City, had always been tense. Since the founding of Kestvala as a Vassal Realm as opposed to an Exarchate, self-governance for the Caucasus had been challenged not from outside influences, but from within. Both the Kestvalae and the Kanaeri were granted the ability to vote in this new government structure, however this lead to Kanaeri attempting to usurp the racial hierarchy. This was not necessarily a bad thing, because it motivated Kestvalae to take an active role is asserting the superiority of Kestvalae in relation to the Kanaeri, and the right of the Kestvalae to make the decisions impacting the Caucasus as the rightful evolutionary inheritors of that land. Beginning with the de facto rule that the Governor has to be Kestvalae, the trend was truly put into law, and no Kanaeri has ever become Governor. It was likely that a Kanaeri never would without it being a law, however this was a great symbolic victory for the Kestvalae. The Kanaeri slowly had their possessions taken from them, through taxes on impure offspring and tax breaks for families who produced purer offspring of Kestvalae or Ephyral blood. Kanaeri were prohibited from ‘fucking above their place’ as it was often called, or producing offspring through incest as Ephyral nobles may do, even if a Kanaeri family managed to claw its way into immense wealth. It did not take long for the population of the Kestvalae to skyrocket while the Kanaeri dwindled in numbers. Kestvalae now nearly met the Kanaeri in terms of population size. Kanaeri businesses were bought or defeated by Kestvalae businesses. The average income of the Kestvalae rose while the Kanaeri were subjugated economically. With this came changes to the voting results, which were held on working days to minimize the uneducated poor who would vote. Added with the preference of the Governor and the Eye of the Emperor, this made the Caucasus Council entirely Kestvalae since 2058. It was Veryn who had to deal with the collateral damage of racial progress. Kanaeri crime, which was already high due to their more primitive blood, had risen steadily. In the eyes of a slight majority of Kestvalae since the census taken at the end of 1978, the Kanaeri had to be fully enslaved and their population decreased. For some, it was in order for the potential of the Kestvalae race to become reality. For others, it was a simple hatred for Kanaeri and their culturally destructive nature. A significant majority of the Kestvalae population wanted the Kanaeri vote to either be revoked or reduced in worth. In the meantime, law enforcement had their work cut out for them. Now, Veryn was in a high station in Kestvalae society, and intended to rise as high as he could to advance his family name, the reputation of his race, and the interests of the Empire. He knew that what was about to transpire would trigger unrest in the following days.

     As he walked away from the truck, six armed military police guards exited his and another truck, and followed in two files as he walked the steps from the street to the law enforcement headquarters, wherein the five high-profile enemies of the Empire had been held since the declaration of their punishment by the Heir to the Undying Throne. Six more guards stood by the heavy doorway, and saluted to Veryn as he came near. Two of them opened the door for him and his men. Veryn still admired the interior of the headquarters, even after two years of operating from within it. Immediately inside, pillars stood to either side of the door. Directly ahead was a desk encased in glass, lightly to the left. Potted plants stood to either side of the grey carpet leading to this desk. To the right of the desk was a barred door. All the walls were a sand colour. Veryn admired the simplicity of it all. It was more or less just a room. No elaborate decorating. As Veryn approached the desk, an enforcement officer standing behind it wearing similar all-grey attire saluted him. Two women in similar attire were operating phones.

"Commander." was all the officer said, to which Veryn replied,

"Transportation of five prisoners to public punishment."

     Veryn produced a card and placed it in the gap in the glass. The officer picked it up and ran it through a scan, then paused to read the computer monitor beside him. After a few seconds, he gave the card back to Veryn.

"Very good sir. That bunch deserve what's coming."

     Veryn smiled and nodded, then turned and went through the door on the right, the six MP guards following. The group passed several barred cells, with various people inside. Most of them were Kanaeri, likely low-income judging by their mild clothes. A few were Kestvalae. Once in a while, Veryn spotted a woman in a cell. The corridor allowed a cross section of Jahmera's criminality to be glimpsed. At the end of the corridor was a door to the left, and a door straight ahead. Veryn stopped, and three of the guards went through the latter door, followed by Veryn, and then the three other guards. The passage on the other side continued for only a few paces before reaching an elevator. Once inside, the group descended a floor, and exited the elevator into a dimly lit room with a passage directly ahead and to the right. It was partway down the corridor on the right that Veryn and his group stopped.

     Inside a cell on the left were five women, all Kanaeri. All of them wore light brown jumpsuits and simple sandals. There were no beds or other furnishing in the cell, only a drain. The five were sitting on the concrete floor or leaning against the walls, having just been transported there the night before. A guard standing outside the cell opened it with a key card and stepped inside with five of Veryn's entourage. The five women, handcuffed, were herded into a line as Veryn walked in and supervised their preparation.

"Strip and clean them." he ordered.

     Out of fear, none of the five protested except for the second youngest. Glaring at Veryn, her words cut through the silence.

"How is it, being a bitch of the Tyrants? Are you proud of yourself, betraying your people?"

     Veryn approached the woman, speaking calmly.

"I enforce the laws that Kestvalae devised, to honour the will of the Ephyral who raised us from nothing. Kanaeri would do well to mind their place as well." he said.

     The woman tried to speak again, but when he was close to her, Veryn grabbed her neck with one hand and squeezed, cutting off her words. The other women moved to closer, but were held back by the guards. Veryn forced her to face up to him, and spoke with a sudden hatred,

"You have a lot of fight in you, but that will change. In an hour, you'll be marching through the streets of this city. You'll be raped in the city centre by a hundred men at least. How is it, knowing that the life that Kestvalae, your betters, granted you is about to be stripped away?"

     The woman's throat pulsated as she tried to draw air through it. Veryn felt it in the palm of his hand, and he released her. She slumped but did not fall over, and breathed heavily between coughs. Veryn stepped back.

"When they're in the pillories," he said, "Save her face for me, since she was so eager to open her whore mouth."

     He detected fear in her as she stood straight again and buried her face in her cuffed hands. The guards proceeded to tear the clothes and sandals off the Kanaeri women as a group of five Kestvalae women walked in with buckets of water and sponges. Each of the prisoners, now naked, were scrubbed head to toe. Veryn watched the one he planned to assault later, smiling as the Kestvalae washing her was particularly rough with her face, breasts and sex. Once the five were clean and shivering, the buckets of water were dumped onto their heads, and the Kestvalae women left, followed by Veryn, the guards, and the prisoners. Veryn didn't agree with the choice of punishment, believing it would incite riots, but he would be a fool to pass up the opportunity if this was the way things had to go.

     Once the prisoners were outside, the youngest was already bleeding from her right foot, leaving red footprints as she stepped. She was breathing heavily, but was managing to keep herself from crying.


	3. Power and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WIP

* * *

Saelrys Tyvozi Ryssar

* * *

PLACEHOLDER FOR ANOTHER STORY ARC


	4. The Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY WIP

* * *

Draeon Tyvar Haryn

* * *

     Draeon stepped up out of the stairwell and into the morning breeze, accompanied by chanting of his name. He was just in time to see the soon-to-be-victims being marched through the street. The main road had been closed off and traffic directed elsewhere. The chanting died down as the group of military police and naked women appeared from around a corner, and was replaced by fervent cheers. The five women, shivering, were limping on bare, bloody feet. Draeon took this opportunity to push through the crowd on the sides of the street and head toward the circular pedestrian plaza that marked the centre of Jahmera. The edge of the plaza was two blocks down. After making it one block, the Kanaeri women had caught up with him, and people were throwing food, glass bottles, and small stones at them. Draeon watched them pass as he made his way through the crowd. Some of the military police were carrying signs that said "soft objects only", and several were stopping along the way to write up fines for people who threw hard objects. The blood on the women's feet blended somewhat with the reddish glow on their skin from the rising sun. The faces of the three eldest were expressionless, however the two youngest were gritting their teeth and close to tears. Surprisingly, they were not crying. Yet.

     As the group passed him, the crowd around him started following, almost carrying him forward at their pace. Pushing and shoving, Draeon managed to get relatively close to the barricades that the military police had set up around the perimeter of the plaza. The women were brought through first, and were marched most of the way toward a stepped raised circular platform of concrete that was in the centre of the plaza. The platform had been prepared with five iron pillories distributed evenly around the perimeter in a radial fashion, and there were pegs with heavy chains to keep the women's legs spread. The barricades blocking the crowd were picked up by police and carried to the side, and the crowd started moving once more. As Kestvalae poured into the plaza, Draeon jogged to the side and circled around the platform as he approached it. He managed to find a place to stand right at the foot of the platform, with one of the pillories more or less directly in front of him.

     The five women were dragged up the steps and onto the platform, and citizens rallied at the bottom of the steps. The crowd's shouts, to Draeon's disbelief, doubled in volume. One of the guards, who Draeon took to be the commander from his ceremonial steel _kopesh_ , emitting a reddish glow as he walked in the red sunlight of the morning, oversaw the preparation. His hair was jet black, and his violet eyes were squinted while he walked East across the platform, toward the steps that Draeon stood before. He stopped in the centre of the platform and watched as each of the five women were forced to bend over onto the pillories, their bare rears facing outward toward the crowd in a radial arrangement. Their legs were locked in metal braced and chains that were attached to the platform, keeping their legs spread. The second youngest among them was facing directly toward Draeon. After the last pillory was locked, the commander walked forward slightly to Draeon's right, drew his _kopesh_ , and raised it in the air, the curved blade flashing. He shouted something to the guards behind him, and one of them ran over with a microphone, turned it on, and gave it to the commander. 

     The commander held his _kopesh_ over his head, and spoke into the microphone with a deep, assertive voice that was emitted from loud speakers around the city centre. "Silence!" he shouted, his amplified voice making Draeon wince. It took a few more shouts before the crowd hushed to an acceptable level. Looking forward through squinted eyes into the air above the crowd and the red sun beyond them, he then spoke the charges with a strong, but calm tone, "These five women of the Kanaeri race have conspired to sow discord and falsity in our Realm, and the greater Empire over which His Glorious Majesty rules. For the crimes of lese-majesty, traitorous sympathy, and defacing an image of the Eternal Emperor, these five free women are to be locked in public pillory for fourty-eight hours, then auctioned into slavery, so declares His Supernal Highness, the Prince of the Sun and Heir to the Undying Throne, Prince Vaelyx Valerialis." He then looked at the crowd, his eyes sweeping left and right. The crowd had become raucous again, but then gradually quieted once more. It was quiet enough that Draeon could hear a sound coming from behind the commander. The commander raised his microphone to resume speaking, then lowered it slightly. Some of the people close around the platform could hear the sound too, and fell silent. The wave of silence rippled outward as people paused to listen, silencing others around them. Draeon's heart leaped as he heard, over the murmurs, sobbing from the two youngest of the five. Upon realizing this, the crowd suddenly became loud again, electrified by the misery.

     The commander, failing to hold a smile back, called for silence one more time. The crowd, growing restless, took even longer to settle. When it was barely quiet enough for his voice to be heard on the speakers, he said simply, "Killing them is a crime. Citizens may approach." With that, the commander lowered the kopesh, turned around, and walked at a leisurely pace toward the centre of the platform. Draeon bolted up the steps and was barely outrun by the man who had been standing beside him. Draeon knew that he could have ran around the pillory and use the woman's mouth, but he made a split-second decision to shove the other man over. He made it to the woman, and the guards to either side of her moved to stop the other man and the rest of the crowd from approaching too close. Draeon lifted the right side of his _relesan_ and drew his penis from his trousers. He placed both hands on the woman's arse, and she pulled herself sideways, now crying loudly on the other side of the pillory, "Get off me! Get away!" Draeon was hard as iron. He pushed himself firmly against her and held her in place, feeling the trembling flesh, and the texture of the goosebumps on her skin. He hit her arse with an open palm as hard as he could, then grasped his penis and pushed the head into her. She was shaking and screaming, and this made his entry even better. He pushed himself inside as the thrashed, up to his scrotum, and sighed.

     "Fuck!" he exclaimed. Draeon started pumping as quickly as possible. Her screams became coarse and shrill, like she was being tortured "No!" she pleaded, "NO! Please, it hurts! I'm a mother! Please stop! Please! STO-HO-HOP!" she sobbed. Draeon continued while she cried out, trying to see how hard of an impact he could make with his pelvis against her buttocks. Draeon was reminded of his wedding night.

     After Oraea had answered the question of "Who are you?", Draeon had forced himself inside. Oraea cried out in that moment, even though she was wet and excited, and blood met his penis as he broke her hymen. He then asked "and who are you now?" and she replied, her breathing and whimpering seeming like screams in the quiet room...

     The sudden silence of the Kanaeri woman brought Draeon back to the present. He looked up, and saw that another man, the military police commander in fact, had grabbed her face and was trying to pry her mouth open. She was keeping it firmly shut. After a moment of trying, he struck her with a backhand across the face, but still the woman resisted. A young and highly attractive Kestvalae woman with black hair and violet eyes circled around the pillory to Draeon's right, pushing past some others, accompanied by a man of seemingly similar age and breed, and spoke to one of the guards, "let me help him." The guard stood still for a moment before lowering his arm and letting her pass. The man with her said "I'm her brother, let me through". The Kestvalae maiden turned back with a sly smile, and said "I don't know that man, he's been trying to court me since I got here." Her brother, or courtier, looked angry. The guard, unsure of who to believe, just said "I don't know who's telling the truth, but you can watch her from here. It's only a few feet." The man seemed like he was about to protest, then chose to merely shoot a nasty look at the woman, but she had already turned away from him. She walked gracefully to the Kanaeri woman's face and clawed her with her nails. "Open up whore!" she commanded. The commander, still struggling to part those lips, looked the assailant, assessing her face and body, then doubled his efforts at accessing the resisting woman's mouth. With a few more scratches, her mouth opened with a hoarse croak. The commander forced his fingers into her mouth to his third knuckles, and kept her jaws open, shouting at her, "If you keep this up, I'll make sure you die slowly! Maybe you'll be burned alive. Or maybe you'll be flayed. Or maybe you'll swallow my cum and avoid all that."

     Such punitive action was not under the commander's power to take, however the Kanaeri did not seem to know this. The woman's crying turned to whimpering, and she stopped thrashing. Draeon knew there had to be fear in her eyes then, of the fate she may suffer if she resisted. She must have relaxed her jaw, because the commander removed his fingers and replaced them easily with his penis, slipping it into her mouth, which was now hanging open. The Kestvalae woman stooped low in a bowing curtsy and sensually licked the blood off of the Kanaeri's cheek with one long stroke of the tongue, and Draeon barely heard her say, "have fun, whore." into her ear in a sultry voice. She then stood and backed away, but stayed by the commander to watch, her hands daringly on his shoulders. The commander glanced at her, but did not seem to mind at all. The sound of gagging as the commander pumped in an out of his victim's throat brought Draeon to completion. Pulses of the orgasm shot through him as he spilled his seed inside her. This was met by muffled squeaking. Draeon didn't stop, but continued his thrusts, grunting until the orgasm ceased. Despite having waited for an entire week, it was less semen than he thought there would be. _I guess I didn't edge to build it up. More for Oraea then._ When he was finished, he pulled out, stuffed his penis away, and turned to leave. He then saw the man he had pushed aside, staring directly at him. Draeon paused, then spoke to the guard nearby, "I'm done. Let that one through." He pointed, and the guard gestured for the man to approach. His expression was neutral as he and Draeon exchanged a glance and a nod, and Draeon pushed his way back into the crowd, and down the grey steps. He glanced back, and the man was already pumping, the Kanaeri thrashing side to side once again. Draeon continued on his way to leave the plaza.


End file.
